Out Of Character
by CatrienStardust
Summary: Eclare; "I want you all to do something completely out of character; opposite of you, and then write about your experience." What happens when, in an attempt to be her opposite for an English assignment, Clare finds out who she really is? On-going.
1. Chapter 1

**Yoyoyo. I know I should be working on Kidnap Your Heart, or maybe, I don't know, school, but this idea has been floating around since Journalism class yesterday. Just for the record, Nellie Bly's pretty cool. IMO.**

**This is set sometime before All Falls Down, but after the Eli-Has-A-Dead-Girlfriend episodes. This shouldn't be more then around four chapters, and will contain underage drinking. JUST SAYING.**

"Method journalists like Nellie Bly-also known as Elizabeth Cochrane- even went so far as to fake insanity to go undercover for stories."

Twirling a curl through her small, pale fingers, Clare Edwards studied the cinnamon-gold color of her hair. She should have been paying attention, but it was the last period on Friday, and she was worn out, stressed, and tired. These last two weeks had been long, to say the least, and had hosted everything from mixed signals to dead girlfriends to exams, and honestly, the distracted redhead was just ready for a _break_.

In front of her, a dark-haired boy sighed dramatically, the very sound sending a shiver down her spine. Inwardly, she admonished herself. _It was just a sigh; way to overreact._

Yeah, she needed a break. _Badly_. From _Him_.

"Ms. Edwards, would you like to explain to us the assignment?"

Her head shot up, fingers falling from her hair.

"Uh. What?"

Mrs. Dawes, her eclectic but good-hearted English teacher, chuckled. "Well you seem so distracted, I can only conclude that you already know what I'm about to assign you, otherwise you'd be paying more attention. So answer my question, what is it?"

Clare gulped nervously, her eyes darting around the classroom.

"Um..."

"That's what I thought. Sorry, Clare, "Um" isn't an acceptable answer. How about you get your head out of the clouds and listen up, hm?"

Ashamed, she sunk low in her seat and blushed furiously. Beside her, Adam, her best friend, offered a sympathetic smile, his soft features reassuring. In front of her though, the dark boy spun around, shooting her a brief smirk.

Damnit, _Eli_...

"As I was saying. Your assignment isn't to go as extreme as Nellie Bly, but I want you all to do something completely out of character; opposite of you, and then write about your experience."

A surprised murmur overtook the classroom, and, unfazed, Mrs. Dawes continued.

"Now, I'm not saying for you to do anything ground-breaking, but I do want to see a different side of you all. And don't worry- I won't share these experiences." She paused, her eyes sweeping meaningfully across the classroom. "To anyone. These are due Monday, and I expect to be surprised."

With those final words, she turned, and retreated to her seat, freeing the class to talk for the last few minutes. Clare busied herself with packing up as her two friends discussed the assignment.

"I was thinking about maybe trying to play football." Stated Adam. "I'm not really a football kind of guy, obviously, and Drew could, like, help or something." His tone was laced with the lighthearted brand of cynicism that was uniquely Adam.

"Cool." Eli said simply. She heard the chain dangling from his pants brush against his chair, creating a scraping noise as he turned to face her. "What about you, Saint Clare? More public embarrassment?"

Memories flooded back and seemed to take residence in her cheeks, flushing them red. She slipped a notebook into her backpack and shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.

"I'm not sure yet." She fiddled with a pen, tapping it gently on her desk. "I had a few ideas, but they weren't good." She dropped the pen in her bag, blue eyes meeting his.

Again, he smirked, "Anything I can help with?" His tone arced with something that could, (maybe, possibly) be detected as eager hope.

Clare smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe, Mr. Goldsworthy."

His voice dropped a little; husky. "I'll be taking that as a promise, Miss. Edwards."

Beside them, Adam scoffed. "I'm rolling my eyes, you two. Get a room, you lovebirds you."

Immediately Clare blushed. "Shut up, Adam. We're just friends." She didn't want to look at Eli, she was mortified, but when she did, she caught a glimmer of something in his eye. Disappointment? No, it must have been a trick of the light.

Because if it hadn't, that would mean...

No. Nonononono. He needed _time_, remember?

The bell rang, sending the eager High schoolers off in a flurry of Friday-induced excitement. Clare took her time, letting most of the class file out first. By her locker waited Eli, leaning lazily against the blue metal with an expression of amused boredom on his face. When he saw her, however, the expression brightened slightly to one of repressed excitement.

"Clare. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab a bite to eat? We could talk about our assignment."

Shakily, Clare nodded, thinking that his invitation sounded suspiciously like a date. "Sure." She swung her backpack onto her shoulder, grabbing a few books from her locker before slamming it. "Let's go."

His face brightened just a little more, and, courteously, he placed a hand on her elbow, leading her gently outside and towards his hearse, Morty.

His touch, (reluctantly,) sent shivers down her spine.

_Yeah_, she scoffed. _So much for a break..._

**It's not too interesting yet, I'm sure, but we're getting there. I might post a chapter today, in my pre All Falls Down pt. 2 jitters. I'm so nervous/excited/pathetic, I'm, like, jumping. No joke. It's sad. Whatever- just review. I'd be a heckova lot more persueded to post chapter deux if I get some, ahem, convincing, reviews, my lovely readers.**


	2. Chapter 2

"So, do you have any ideas yet?"

She looked at him over the darkish black/tan of her chocolate shake and shrugged, stirring the mixture with her straw absent-mindedly.

"C'mon, Clare, give me more than that."

Exasperated, she threw her hands in the air, rolling her eyes. "You tell me, Eli. What's the opposite of a 'saint'?" Her pointer and middle fingers closed around the last word, forming quotation marks in the air.

His lips pursed, thinking. "Hmm..." _He's always moving_, she thought as she watched his fingers fiddled with a straw wrapper. As she watched those long, pale fingers roll the paper into a ball; he watched a very different member of Degrassi as she made her way up to the cashier.

"Clare. Look." He pointed, and she turned, blue eyes searching to find what he's seen. Finally, she spotted the subject of his attention; Bianca DeSousa, Degrassi's resident whore/badass-rebel. Her eyes narrowed, and something in her heart turned bitter, remembering how Eli once called her hot.

"Gross, Eli, I don't need to know about your fantasies."

He raised his eyebrows, and laughter made the left side of his lips twitch upwards.

"Jealous, Clare?" He spoke her name in a drawl, fueling the fire.

"No way, Eli. I just don't see the relevance she has to our _English Project_." She pointed out, adding an extra emphasis on the last two words, as if to remind him their reason of being at the Dot.

Eli rolled his eyes. "Touchy touchy. Don't worry, brunettes just aren't my style. I like redheads more."

She blushed again, furiously, of course, but she her jaw managed not to tremble this time.

"Goldsworthy, don't change the subject."

"Ouch. I was actually answering your question, _Edwards_." He flung the mutilated straw wrapper towards the floor for no particular reason. "The opposite of you, Saint Clare, is _her_."

She turned around again, this time observing Bianca more closely. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Where Clare got all A's and wrote vampire fanfiction, Bianca was in remedial classes and slept around. Clare wore a cross and a purity ring, and Bianca, jelly bracelets collected from the Ravine and the Boiler room. Even past their clashing personalities, their appearances were contrasting images. Clare was all soft edges and light colors- blue eyes, pale skin, nutmeg hair, whereas Bianca was harsh and exotic, with wild, dark curls, accusing chocolate eyes, and Olive skin.

Clare blushed and spun to face Eli. She felt so boring being compared to her.

"And?" Her voice was tinged with hurt, making him frown.

"I'm just saying; you want your opposite, she's it."

Clare crossed her arms across her chest. "And what makes us different?" Her eyebrow raised in challenge.

That question alone made Eli laugh. He stopped when he noticed the harsh edge to Clare's eyes, and he smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, Clare, that's just really an obvious answer."

She remained silent, arms still crossed, eyebrow still raised.

He felt a distinct feeling he was digging himself in a hole.

"Christ, well, uh, you know." His hand reached up to scratch the back of his head. "She's a rebel, and, you know, just rude and crazy and _out-there_... "

"And I'm not?"

He laughed again. "I'd hope not. By out-there, Clare, I mean, she's you know." He quoted her. "A floosy, for lack of better word. She smokes, and drinks, and does drugs, and-"

"Drinks?"

There's something in her tone that's downright alarming.

"Yeah, Clare. You know." He mimicked unscrewing a bottle and taking a long, drunken gulp. She smirked, and he felt suspicious.

"That's... out-of-character..."

He recognized his tone. All too well. It's his tone, the one he reserved for coming up with ways to fool bullies or anything else remotely illegal/stupid/dangerous.

"Clare..."

She was biting her lip, like there was a big internal debate going on within her. It was an assignment... If Nellie Bly could fake insanity, Clare could get... drunk, right?

"Eli. You still have you fake I.D. right?"

He gulped, hesitant to where this was going. Eli wasn't unfamiliar with alcohol, obviously, but he was known to be a chatty drunk. If this was going to happen, he'd have to be sure to remain sober.

"Of course."

There was a devilish spark in her blue eyes as she rose, her head out as an offering to Eli.

"You coming?"

Something inside him screamed no, but this was Saint Clare, eager to prove the ultimate test of not caring. Her hand shook, but he could see the excitement in her eyes.

So he took her hand. Because really, if you were in his place...

You would too.

**Chapter two. Exciting, right? **

**Before you gripe on me for letting Clare do this, know that this is FANFICTION. I think that, around Eli, Clare would do almost anything, simply to prove to him that she's not all he thinks she is. She's proving herself- to him, and, subconsciously, to herself. It's important character growth here, people. Accept it.**

**Also, I think she'd be incline to drink around him because he makes her feel safe. I still couldn't see her doing it at, say, a party. Don't worry guys, I'm not going to sabotage her. To quote my favorite dark-haired hearse driver, "It's not my style."**

**Thanks to the 11(!) reviews, and the countless alerts/favorites. I love my "fanbase." You guys are seriously helping me with my Eclare fix.**

**Because, ABCDEFGHQ12345, THERE'S ONLY AN HOUR LEFT UNTIL DEGRASSI. –freakout-**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm changing POV's. Sorry for the confusion, but I can't type like that anymore. **

**Also, another thing, sorry about the delay. I ended up rewriting this, simply because,**

**GORRAM IT, I'M TIRED OF DRAMA. It seems like every friggin Eclare fic I'm reading is at a dramatic point, and I'm sick of it. Sure, yes, there's drama in Eclare, I'm just tired of it. So this is your warning, this is a no drama fic, which means that YES, GORRAM IT, I'M PUTTING THEM TOGETHER, AND SOON.**

Clare's first sip of alcohol was at a park- and she almost laughed at the irony of it.

The park had been her favorite when she was younger, and the fact that she was sitting here, back to the cheap plastic, gingerly holding a glass bottle of clear liquid, with Eli, no less, made her almost want to laugh. Of course, it could have been the vodka.

Her first gulp was unbelievably, unalterably, COMPLETELY excruciating. The liquid burned, making her gag, and, more than once, she was forced to spit it up, the vile liquid falling into pebbles below.

Eli just watched, a half-smirk on his lips, remembering how if felt the first time he drank. He offered an expression that was half a grimace, half sympathetic, and handed her a water bottle.

"Drink." He instructed, and she took it gratefully, downing half the bottle in a few gulps.

"Easy there." His tone was gentle, but amusement still sparked within his eyes.

"I'm sorry." She croaked, holding out the bottle. "But _who_ exactly drinks this?"

Eli smirked again. "Just take another sip, Blue Eyes. It gets better, trust me."

As much as her stomach coiled at the thought of drinking again, she nodded, gripping the glass tightly as she took another swig, sending a bitter, burning, racing fire down her esophagus. She moaned and leaned against Eli, waiting for it to get better and sipping water.

"Here." He offered, and she looked at his hand with surprise.

"Fun Dip?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Just eat the powder; it helps with the burn, and the taste."

She was skeptical, but really in no position to argue. She held the packet up to her lips, and surprisingly, the cool, sweet candy gave relief.

It was then when she felt it.

Yes, _it_.

The heat, which crept up to her eyebrows, fuzzing her brain and making her heart feel light and giddy.

"E-Eli?" She murmured, suddenly hyper-aware of the rough texture, the ridges and smooth indentations on the surface of his leather jacket.

He didn't respond, just guided the bottle to her lips. This time, it burned, but a lot less. She still coughed though, violently, before eating a packet of fun dip and pushing the bottle away.

"I... Need... Break." She choked out between coughs. He nodded and rubbed her back, waiting for the pain to subside. She was wearing only a thin button up, and through the flimsy fabric he could feel the heat of her skin- she was flushed all over.

He found it adorable.

"That feels nice."

As soon as the words left her lips, she blushed. Although it was true, and she'd thought it, she hadn't planned to actually _say _it. A light hum buzzed through her body; felt like a helium balloon, released into the atmosphere. Had things always been this... clear?

He cleared his throat, hand still tracing circles on the plaid fabric. "So, any life changing revelations yet?"

She shook, the movement feeling oddly heavy. There was a slight heat collected behind her eyebrows, and she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks, but it wasn't quite enough.

"No. I just feel... loose."

Nervously, she fingered the cap of the bottle, before shutting her eyes and taking another, much longer chug. He winced, that much has gotta hurt. She slammed the bottle down, her eyes closed shut, hand reaching for the water bottle.

As she tried to soothe her throat he smirked. Her hair was disheveled, lips parted, cheeks flushed, looking confused and elated, and for once, it wasn't because of him. Her usually bright and clear blue eyes had a slight glaze to them, and her pupils were about ten times their natural size.

Suddenly, it dawns on him that she's on her way to being completely drunk, and they're together, and this could spell out a long array of problems for the two. The skin on the back of his neck tingles, and he takes a sip of the achromatic beverage, ignoring the familiar smack in the face feel.

If he's going to survive this, he's going to need a lot more than this.

**This was supposed to be longer, but I divided it in half cause I promised Melanie a new chapter.**

**So, there you go. Enjoy by sabatogeness. (:**


	4. Chapter 4

She tried to form coherent thoughts, but there were just so many words buzzing around up there. How did it make any sense? She held her hands out, the air feeling oddly solid against her skin. She clutched at the bottle for another drink, but was interrupted by Eli's hand, gently guiding the bottle down.

"Hold it there, Blue Eyes. Take a breather."

She nodded, and nodded, her head seeming to move of its own accord. Her limbs felt so heavy, and suddenly she didn't feel like staying upright anymore. She collapsed, her head on Eli's outstretched leg, her hair sprawled across his thigh.

For some reason, this was hilarious to her. She... couldn't... even... stay... upright... Her laughter bubble up, her body wracked with it.

Eli just chuckled, his hands automatically moving to smooth down her messy curls.

"Eli." She breathed, feeling like a little kid on a roller coaster. Had things always spun this much? Her thoughts moved to fast for her mind to take in, then the world moved to fast for her mind to catch up with, and the world and her mind moved to fast for her eyes to catch up with so she just closed them, trying not to think, just feel, the air literally pull her body up and control her. She struggled to form coherent thoughts. Before, she was buzzed, but this, vision delay, lethargy, finding stupid things amusing... This was probably border lining drunk, right?

Her mind tried to break down all she felt, analyze every detail, but for some reason, her mind couldn't remember what she was doing, or more importantly, _why._

Then, a loud, slurred voice in the back of her head told her to stop being so goddamn analytical for once and just _feel_- so she did.

"ELI." She said a little more emphatically, loving the push of his name pushing past her lips, vibrating through her body.

He just watched her, noticing how her eyes were dilated, breathing quickened, body moving strangely next to him his. It was almost erotic, watching her feel uninhibited for the first time, ever.

She flipped over, still laying on him, but stomach to his legs now.

"Eli." She said for the first time. "I'm..." She took another sip of the vodka, a bigger one, she was less afraid of the drink now. (Though she still had to pause and wince at the bitter pain that tore down her throat) "I'm not happy."

He looked at her with alarm. "Elaborate?"

She shrugged, the movement loose, and she laughed. "Oh Eli... You're so damn." Another laugh. "OOPS. I cursed. Sorry God. But anyways... you don't get iiiittt." She drew out the last word, loudly, her arms flailing out, making her cheek fall to the soft denim of his pants leg. It was far too close for his liking, but at the same time, he craved more. He cleared his throat.

"Don't get what, Clare?"

She sighed loudly, dramatically, and sat up, her face closer to Eli's, but not close enough for shock. Yet. She took another sip, the bottle half empty, before squeezing her eyes, feeling the burn and the strange, almost-painful churn in her stomach.

"I don't know." She tried to sit up, but Eli put a firm hand on her lower back, keeping her down. "I'm known as- as someone I'm-I'm not really, youknow?"

There was a silence, and through the haze, Clare recognized that her cheeks were flushing. It was like she'd lost complete control of her verbal abilities; she was speaking words not of her own accord.

"I'm su-supposed to be this saint." She clenched her eyes. "For my-my parents, and mymom, and, and school... It's not who I am, but it's who everyone, like, wants me to-to be."

Again, her thoughts moved too quickly for her mouth to catch up with, and she stumbled and stuttered, feeling inadequate and foolish.

Eli murmured then, "I don't think you're a saint, Clare."

Through his hand resting on her back, Eli felt the temperature in Clare's body rise as she looked at him, eyes wide in shock.

"If you were a saint, you wouldn't be here, with me. I'm not saying you're a floozy-" he chucked briefly, "I'm just saying, you're you, Edwards."

There was a silence then, but Clare's face was pulled into a wide smile. Eli's heart fluttered a little at the sight of this, since Clare was usually so refined, so drawn-in. He could read her like a book always, of course, but it was nice to have the words printed clear-as-day for him.

As his eyes skimmed over the delicate shadows that her eyelashes cast upon her cheek, he felt his jaw twitch, his heart racing just a little too quickly. He couldn't be possessing _feelings_ for Clare, right?

Shaking his head and determined to change the subject, Eli subtley moved his hand away from her back.

"How do you feel?"

She blinked at him, trying to focus.

"It's weirrrrd." Her hand found the one he'd carefully moved away moments before, squeezing it. "It's kind of like, I don't know. It's profound; electric; _esoteric_."

He fought the urge to laugh. Even when she was drunk, her vocabulary still rivaled his. He slight blue eyes shone up into his, and, for a second, he allowed his hands to swoop down her sides, feeling the soft warmth through her t-shirt.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't keep his hands off this girl- drunk or not. She was just so _beautiful_.

A light moan bubbled out from Clare's lips, and he found himself mesmerized.

"So, what's your..." She paused, looking up at his face with a dazed expression before shaking her head, blinking, and continuing. "your story, Elllliii?"

She watched through lidded eyes as he pulled a strange face and cocked his head to the side. "Isn't that a little _personal_, Clare?"

Another loose shrug. "You didn't let me back down."

Eli smirked, running a hand down her side again. "I don't know if you could take it, Clare."

"What, you chicken?" She made outrageous chicken noises and laughed again; unaware of how ridiculous she looked.

"Alright, fine, twist my rubber arm. I moved here from Edmonton. My dad got a job out here. There's nothing original, really."

"Reallyeli?" She said, slurring the words together. "Thassit?

"Well." He paused. "You already know about Julia, and Mike. What else is there to know?"

"There has to be s-something else."

With a smug grin, Eli nodded. "You caught me- my parents are Morticia and Gomez.

There was a few seconds of silence as Clare registered the humor, then, she let out the most adorable giggle Eli'd seen in his life.

There went the odd churning feeling in his stomach again. He was getting nervous, and this wasn't like him. Almost on impulse, he took another swig of the vodka, letting the heat wash over his tense body and relax him. This was _Clare_, he knew her like the back of his hand; there was no reason to be _nervous_.

Looking up at him from his lap, Clare's brow furled, making her look like she was trying very hard to focus on one thought.

She couldn't really think- but she did know that Eli's hand on her back was sending electric tingles down her spine, and the sound of him breathing was lulling her into a state of calamity she'd never experienced, and the flush on his cheeks was adorable and the way he wet his lips was tantalizing. Clare wasn't thinking particularly _dirty_ thoughts, she was just acutely aware of the undertones and tension that had been there before.

"Clare, you make things very hard for me. "

His statement took a few to sink in, and when it did, her jaw slacked from disappointment. Pain flashed in her blue eyes.

"What?"

He nudged her up, adjusting her so she was in his lap; their position was not unlike a mother cradling her newborn. His arms were strong- stronger then she'd expected, and his hands were wide and held her in a way that hinted of experience and complete adoration. His face wasn't very far from his, and the way in which he was holding her forced her to stare half-lid-edly into his passion-filled green eyes.

"Your eyes. Your face. Your breath, voice, laughter, everything. You're mesmerizing."

She was silent for a while then, and, with bated breath, Eli pursed his lips together, seemingly debating an internal conflict.

There were so many sensations for her to focus on, the warmth of his body, the snare-drum like pound of her heartbeat, the rush of cars on the street by the park, the rustle of autumn leaves...

But through the haze, one clear thought rang through, so she spoke it.

"I want this, Eli."

Her hand reached up to caress his cheek, and then his lips were on hers.

**You guys can shoot me. I know. It's been ages. I've been really busy though. But I miss Fanfiction- and the new Degrassi episodes are **_**very **_**inspiring, haha.**

**One thing I'm trying to convey is that this isn't just a rash act for Clare- there is going to be purpose and realization behind her drinking, I promise. 3**

**As always, reviews are worshiped.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Note**: I know it's been a while since I've updated this story, and I offer a thousand apologies for that. It's been a really interesting year and I'm just now regaining my footing. I hope that some of my original readers are still with me and forgive me.

This was really hard for me to write because I'm not very good at either of the key points of this chapter, so I hope this wasn't too bad. Keep in mind this gets T rated. I know, I'm a daredevil. (; You'll see.

Also, I urge you guys to review. I'm only going to continue this if people are still reading. Enjoy.

**o0o0o0o**

Her lips felt like fire and tasted like spice, and Eli knew it wasn't just from the bottle of vodka they'd both consumed. Her hands wildly gripped his shirt, his neck; finally tangling themselves into the locks of his hair, pulling him to a proximity of closeness that he hadn't known existed. Normally alcohol would leave him lethargic, but not now. She was too close, and her lips were too _delicious_. In a truly minx-ish move, Clare ran her tongue across Eli's bottom lip, bringing forth a growl that made her smirk, accomplished.

Unable to help himself, his hands wandered, dragging slowly from her neck down the front of her shirt, causing a sharp shiver to make its way down Clare's back. Ungluing his lips from hers, Eli placed kisses down her neck, nibbling on the hot flesh there, then blowing on it slightly, the contrast of hot and cold eliciting a sharp hiss from Clare's flushed lips.

"Eli-" Her voice was a sharp, high pitch. He'd _never_ heard something so innocent and sexy (all in one) in his life, and he found himself quickly losing control to both his feelings and the carnal urge to _make Clare Edwards his_.

Carefully, Eli laid Clare down on the mulch, bumping his head on the playground equipment in the progress. Clare giggled uncontrollably, and Eli rolled his eyes, capturing her lips in a kiss so intense that she forgot all about making fun of him. They were walking a fine line, the fine line the two seemed to love to dwell on. They never quite crossed it, never admitted their feelings or let themselves feel.

_Fuck it_. So many lines had been crossed between them tonight that Eli couldn't help but decide to gamble it all. He was tired of their stupid dance. _Someone _ had to venture off the line eventually. Slipping his hands under her thin blouse, he stroked the skin on her stomach, slowly inching upwards in a tantalizing act that made Clare literally gasp out loud.

She'd never been touched like this, he knew, and being the first one to slip his lean fingers underneath her bra, stroking the most sensitive flesh on her body and making her writhe and moan, was a bit of an ego trip. His fingers expertly teased her hard nipples, rolling the skin between his fingers in a way that made Clare's eyes roll back. She was utterly breathless, repeating his name like a mantra, and he was elated, lips sloppily laying down kisses on her neck on her collar, on the slope of her breasts, anywhere he could reach.

"Clare-" He murmured breathlessly as his hands dropped lower, ghosting the top of her jeans "I- You feel so lovely Clare, so lovely." She caught his lower lip in her teeth and his eyes rolled back, forgetting he was drunk in the quiet moans that made up the symphony of Clare. He couldn't really think through the haze of Clare and vodka, all he knew is that he wanted, no he _needed _ Clare, more than he needed water more than he needed air, more than he'd needed anyone or anything before in his life.

Caught in the heat of the moment, he uttered the only thing that he was sure of.

"I love you."

Clare froze, her eyes opening with an alarmed expression. "Eli." Her voice shook a little. "What'dja just say?"

Dazed, he stumbled for words. "I said I love you, Clare. I love you I love you I love _you_." Eli was so preoccupied with the slopes and contours of her body that he didn't notice Clare's discomfort until she'd pulled away, little pieces of wood sticking out of her light curls, a disheveled mess.

"I'm drunk." She murmured, adjusting her shirt and crossing her arms around her body self-consciously.

"I know." His voice slurred slightly. "I'm not exactly sober either." Leaning in for a kiss, he was discouraged when she placed a finger on his lips, stopping him.

"Yes, but-" She clasped her arms in front of her, standing up and swaying, shock and pain etched across every inch of her face. "You're not making the biggest mistake of your life, either."

The verbal smack to his face sobered Eli up instantly. Had he really pushed her that far? He'd thought that the enjoyment had been mutual. Was it something he'd said? Thinking back, he froze in place when he realized that he'd confessed his feelings for her.

His features instantly becoming a few shades paler, he stood up, ready to explain. "Clare, I-"

"Was..." She stumbled, trying to move away from the advancing brunette. "Was this all a plan?" Throwing her hands up, tears flooded her eyes. "You thought you'd just get Saint Clare drunk and then she'd be an easy lay?"

Eli was at a loss for words.

"Cause... Cause you can't even admit that you like me without a half bottle of vodka, huh?"

"Clare, it isn't like that." He tried to explain, but she wasn't hearing it.

"I'm just... I'm just gonna go." She slurred, already making her way away from the park. "Those kinda lines don't work on me, _Goldsworthy_." She sneered. "Guess your... Guess that 'time' you needed to think of a way to get into my pants didn't work. Sorry."

"Clare!" He called after her, running in the direction she'd stumbled off in, but it was no use. She was gone.

And all that met him was silence.


End file.
